


look at the color

by politicalmamaduck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, F/M, Mando'a, One Shot, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: Four times Wedge Antilles almost kissed Sabine Wren, and one time he did.





	look at the color

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainydayadvocate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainydayadvocate/gifts).



> Written for rainydayadvocate for the 2018 Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange! I hope I did your Dear Writer letter some justice--thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this fantastic pairing. I hope this will make you smile.

I. Atollon

Wedge still couldn’t believe Sabine’s crazy plan to get them out of Skystrike had actually worked. But here he was, on a secret Rebel base, and officially part of Phoenix Squadron.

“How did you escape the Governor and the torture?” he asked later, after they had a moment to collect their thoughts.

“She was no match for a Mandalorian,” she replied with a wink before going to work on ship repairs.

He had been in love before; even thought he had met his life partner, until the Empire took her away from him. Before that, he had his fair share of fooling around like any Corellian teenager, but Sabine was unlike anyone he had ever met, on Corellia or otherwise. She was a true Mandalorian warrior like the stories of old, so intelligent and capable, but also brave and loyal. He couldn’t help but watch her walk away and wonder if she had a partner. Skystrike Academy discouraged such things, of course, but that didn’t stop many of his fellow cadets from finding ways to sneak around and share a forbidden cuddle or more.

He wondered if the Rebellion had similar rules. They must not, he thought, watching the way Captain Syndulla looked at the mysterious Jedi Kanan Jarrus.

Everyone he met was warm and welcoming, thrilled to have more capable pilots to help the Rebel cause. No one captivated him like Sabine, even though she was always busy; fiddling with new designs for explosives, painting every bare patch she could find, or dying her hair new colors to match her latest designs. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, no matter what she was doing.

Every time he tried to catch a moment alone with her, one of them was called away for some urgent task or mission. It was validating to have one’s skills constantly in demand, and to be part of such a well-regarded crew, but it left much to be desired in terms of personal intimacy.

Wedge settled for teasing Sabine about her flight skills whenever he could. It wasn’t a real kiss, but better than nothing.

 

* * *

 

II. Yavin IV

Yavin IV was in sheer chaos. Wedge heard C-3PO muttering about the ambient air having an alcohol reading as he rushed by, exhilarated and desperate to give as many hugs and down as many rounds of whiskey as he could.

He and Luke Skywalker nearly toppled each other over as they hugged, whooping and yelling. He even saw the Princess herself sharing a glass of whiskey with the Corellian smuggler who shot down the TIEs on Luke’s tail, giving Luke the chance to blow the Death Star to smithereens.

Wedge filed that away in the back of his mind for later, and made a mental note to seek out the smuggler to swap stories later.

Later. There was someone very decidedly not a hotshot pilot from Corellia whom he needed to find. She was a hotshot of a far different kind. Despite her vibrant hair color, she was remarkably good at melting into the shadows and into crowds when she wanted to.

Wedge wouldn’t have been there to celebrate without her, would never have even made it this far. A drink was the least he owed her.

He found her looking out at the vast jungle canopy, her airbrushes in her hands. By her feet lay scattered metal pieces, various detonators, and a large piece of durasteel that had the beginnings of a mural on it. Despite the ruckus and carousing from the rest of the base, Sabine’s area was relatively serene.

He sat down next to her, and offered her the drink he brought her. “ _K'oyacyi_ ,” she said, accepting it with a small smile and clinking their glasses.

“ _K'oyacyi_ ,” he replied, smiling at her in return, but her own smile had faded as she looked down at the beginning of her new mural.

They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks.

“I want to remember all the pilots,” she blurted out, gesturing at the mural. “So many of you went up there, and so few of you returned.”

He nodded, and took her free hand. “I feel so guilty that I had to come back down, that I lived when nearly my whole squadron died.” He paused, taking a deep breath and another drink. “I can’t wait to see your painting when you’re done.”

She smiled again, soft and sad. “Help me with it. Tell me what it’s like to fly an X-Wing.”

“It can be very lonely,” he admitted. “But exhilarating. There’s nothing like it in the galaxy. You feel one with the stars and with your squadron. What are you going to paint?”

“Today’s battle. The Death Star will go here, the X-Wings, here, and the Y-wings, here.”

“Make sure mine is in front,” he said, winking at her. She laughed, and smiled a true smile, looking like her normal self once more.  

He leaned towards her, and put his right arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder for a moment, long enough for him to consider pulling her in for a kiss, but she pulled him up to his feet instead.

“Come on. Let’s go join the party.”

He followed her back into the din, where Zeb and Ezra pulled Sabine into a huge hug and Wedge finally caught up with Captain Solo.

Though he would never forget that day, that night, that party, Wedge’s eyes remained on Sabine’s sad smile all night.

 

* * *

 

III. Hoth

Hoth was so bitterly cold that it was too frigid to waste breath by complaining about the inhospitable climate. It was perhaps entirely unsurprising, then, that so many beings were partnering up to help fight the cold by sharing body heat. The hormonal outbreak and cuddle piles were also unsurprising given such close quarters. Someone, certainly not someone from Rogue Squadron, started a rumor about Mon Mothma and General Rieekan. Rogue Squadron, with the exception of Luke Skywalker, also had a betting pool going regarding when Captain Solo and Princess Leia would finally get together.

A certain Corellian pilot and a certain Mandalorian weapons expert were still unattached, however, much to Roque Squadron’s consternation. Thankfully, however, most of their attention was devoted to the smuggler and the Princess, whose arguments had now become legend. Given the increased volume and intensity of their fights over the past few days, odds were steadily moving towards those who bet they’d end up together sooner rather than later.

Due to the nature of the base, being permanently encased in snow and ice and suffering sub-zero temperatures, Sabine’s painting was severely curtailed for the time being. She could usually be found in the hangar, working on new weapons prototypes.

That was where Wedge found her shortly after Captain Solo and Commander Skywalker were rescued. She was filling a new type of paint bomb with various different colors, near a heater so the paint wouldn’t freeze.

Wedge sat down next to her, close enough that they could share heat, but not close enough that they were touching.

“Can I help?” he asked, gesturing to the bomb casings.

“Be careful not to get the paint too close to the heater or breathe in too much of the fumes,” she said, moving a purple paint can closer to him and passing him a bombshell.

He nodded, and started filling the casing. He was about to pick up another empty bomb when pilots started running for the snowspeeders, shouting that General Rieekan had ordered code kay-one-zero.

“Kay-one-zero? What happened?” Wedge asked Luke as he ran by, looking fully recovered from his night out in the subzero cold and battle with a Wampa.

“The Empire found us,” he replied. “There’s a fleet of Star Destroyers up there, but we got the shields up in time. Prepare for battle.”

He and Wedge clasped each other’s shoulders for a moment.

“That was a rookie mistake. The Empire operates on precision. Someone is going to pay for coming out of lightspeed too soon,” Sabine said, grabbing all her completed paint bombs.

“Sabine’s right. They’ll move for ground assault now,” Wedge said, and Luke nodded.

“To the snowspeeders,” he said, running over to the nearest group of pilots.

Wedge put his hands on Sabine’s shoulders, looking into her eyes. “Looks like your new bombs might come in handy for this one.”

She smiled, but before she could respond, the base alarms started blaring. She jumped and turned away from him, looking back towards the war room.

Following her eyes, Wedge sensing her thoughts. “Go find Hera and get the family out of here,” he said.

She nodded. “Clear skies.”

“Clear skies. See you at the rendezvous point.”

“See you at the rendezvous point,” she replied, then ran off to find the rest of her family.

Wedge sighed, then headed toward the hangar to prepare for battle with the rest of Rogue Squadron. The betting pool would have to resume when they reached the rendezvous point. He was still losing.

 

* * *

 

IV. Endor

Endor was the greenest planet Wedge Antilles had ever seen. The vegetation and creatures on Atollon had been one thing; this was disconcerting, the trees’ depth and height and all the plant life, not to mention the Ewok structures and society high above the forest floor. The sky was bright blue, fading into reds and pinks with the sunset and fiery debris continuing to fall into the atmosphere like shooting stars.

It was breathtaking. Quite possibly only because he was still alive to see it.

Around him, the canopy echoed with swaying branches as Ewoks danced and cheered and prepared a massive party for the victors.

Victory at last. It felt as beautiful as it looked.

He couldn’t wait to see how Sabine painted it.

Much like their celebrations on Yavin IV after the first Death Star’s destruction, Wedge had no doubt the ambient air had a readable blood alcohol concentration. He wasn’t Force sensitive like Luke, but he could feel the exuberance in the air. The freedom to celebrate, knowing they had created a better tomorrow for the entire galaxy. It was intoxicating even without the Ewoks’ potent brew, which Chewbacca claimed was similar to the Wookiees’ and was being shared liberally with everyone.

After hugging seemingly the entire Alliance, taking shots and telling stories over and over again, Wedge stumbled over to where Sabine was sitting by the fire, laughing at some Ewoks attempting to dance with Chopper.

The firelight made her hair and skin seem luminous, a beacon in the darkness.

“Are you going to paint tonight?” he asked, passing her some homebrew.

She took a deep swig and wiped her lips, shuddering.

“This is awful and nothing like _tihaar_. Have you been drinking this all night?”

“Mmmmaybe,” he admitted, winking at her and nearly falling over laughing when an Ewok wearing a stormtrooper helmet collapsed on his behind in front of them, spilling his drink then yelling “Yub nub!”

“You’re blasted, Wedge,” she said, laughing and putting her arm around his shoulders to steady him. “How many of these did Solo and Calrissian force on you?”

“Not enough,” he replied, laughing again. “Let’ssss go dance with the Ewokssss,” he said, pulling her to her feet and into the Ewoks’ circle around Chopper.

They laughed and danced until Wedge was seeing stars from the homebrew. Sabine tucked him into a tent with plenty of blankets and a glass of water for the morning.

The entire Alliance woke up hungover the next morning, groaning when the sun arose mere hours after the party ended.

 

* * *

 

V. Lothal

It had to be Sabine. Sabine, and Ahsoka Tano. Their unique skills were perfectly suited to the challenge.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less when the two set off on their journey, quietly and with no fanfare. Mon Mothma and Princess Leia were rebuilding the Republic; Luke Skywalker was off hunting Jedi artifacts, and Han Solo seemed content to settle down, for at least a while. The old gang was growing older, and wiser, for the most part.

Wedge had never been particularly wise when it came to the warrior he had been chasing for years. It seemed they were like a sun and moon; perfectly balanced and always in orbit, but never touching, never meeting.

They clasped each other’s shoulders at their goodbye, looking into each other’s eyes.

It was over far too quickly, but she had more important places to be, to search.

“Bring him home,” Wedge said, and Sabine nodded, looking fierce and perfect as ever.

“ _Jate jate’kara_ ,” he whispered when their ship took atmo and disappeared into the stars.

She had saved his life more times than he could count. Her passion, her drive, her intelligence were second to none. He had loved her practically since the moment they met all those years ago at Skystrike Academy, the first time she saved his life.

The least he could do for her now was to ensure she had something to return to when she did. So he helped the rest of the old gang pick up the pieces of their lives and the rest of the galaxy and bind them together into something as strong as Mandalorian armor.

Han and Leia built their home on Chandrila, and soon thereafter another bouncing baby boy joined the family. Everyone was welcome there, but in the end, everything came back to Lothal, Phoenix Squadron’s spiritual and physical home for so long, where everything started, the first planet they had saved from the Empire.

As Sabine would say, _aliit ori'shya tal'din_. Family was more than blood, and it always would be. Their family had grown even bigger and stronger over the years, and he couldn’t wait to tell her about all that happened while they were gone.

When their ship was finally due to land, little Jacen pulled on Wedge’s sleeve.

“Uncle Wedge, are Aunt Sabine and Aunt Ahsoka really coming home now?”

“Yes, they are,” he replied, smiling just as big as the little boy. “And they’ve brought your Uncle Ezra with them. You’ll like him. He’s very special, just like you.”

Wedge’s prediction was entirely correct; Hera had to pry Jacen off Ezra to put him to bed that night.

After the rest of the family had gone to bed, Wedge and Sabine finally had a moment alone, just like old times. Even in the Unknown Regions, she still had found time to dye her hair.

“Welcome home, _cyar'ika_ ,” he said, and she finally flung her arms around him.

Their lips met, and it was like they had found their home at last.

**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you to my dear friend Mnemehoshiko/bittersnake for her beta help, and to spookykingdomstarlight for running another hugely successful exchange! Please do let me know what you think by leaving a comment below and come talk with me on Tumblr!


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